


How's That Bricklaying Coming?

by chapstickaddict



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: #noregrets, (kinda), Absolutely Filthy, But everyone's a switch!, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Exhibitionism, F/M, M/M, Multi, Nipple Play, Pegging, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2018-09-25 12:58:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9821525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chapstickaddict/pseuds/chapstickaddict
Summary: "I have a birthday request," Jyn announced.Bodhi laughed, agog. Cassian groaned and rolled his hips to tempt her back into movement. “Your birthday was last month. You’ve got almost a year to go until your next request,” Bodhi reminded her.Oh, and what a birthday it had been for Jyn. Clarifying, on so many fronts, on what birthdays were really for. Her men had indulged her more brazen tendencies and had let her choose where to fuck them; Bodhi in the cockpit of Rogue One, her straddling his lap in the pilot seat; Cassian at the edge of a nearby lake, half-covered in rain and dirt and long grass. And they had all enjoyed the venture enough to inspire her into arranging for Cassian and Bodhi's fun earlier that morning.But now she was onto the next idea. Jyn made a contemplative noise. “A suggestion for your birthday, then."





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> A woman told me years ago that she writes so her head won’t explode. I still empathize with that. I love the end of the movie, i think it was beautiful and heartbreaking and made me feel things. I still like happy endings. And needed to work through those things I feel. So this! 
> 
> It started out as shameless porn, but feelings always get in the way. I really, really, really like the dynamics these three have. I want so much more of them. 
> 
> unbeta'ed. please excuse typos.

They were alive, and Jyn was in disbelief. They were alive, and their sacrifices hadn’t been in vain. They were alive, and for the first time ever, Jyn considered wanting, instead of rejecting. 

Kissing Cassian was instinct. She had wanted to since he stood over her, looked at her through those ridiculous eyelashes, and offered her freedom. He pushed her, pulled her; stood before all the rational walls she ever constructed around herself and unmade them, brick by brick. 

Kissing Bodhi was impulse. He adored her and didn’t even know her. But he knew a version of her, her father’s version of her, that just may be redeemable. She treasured that, and the more his wide eyes watched her, the more she wanted to live up to it. 

Watching them kiss each other brought something new and dangerous to the surface. Jyn liked it; the warm bubbling she had never thought she’d understand rise within her, the deep, burning, hot want that wouldn’t be extinguished, only sated. 

Hope, dangerous and tantalizing, sat heavy on her tongue. It made her want things she never would have granted herself before Wobani and Eadu and Scarif. Before them. They could make this work.

* 

Jyn pushed Bodhi against the wall, reveling in the power he gave her to force him there. She reached down, slipped between the layers of his flight suit, pulled to his waist, and searched for a particular sensation that proved Bodhi had done what she had asked of him. 

Sure enough, she eased her fingers between his thighs and felt sticky wetness on them. It wasn’t the slick she had used on him earlier, but something more intimate and brazen. Cassian. 

“You found him?” 

“Yes,” Bodhi confirmed after a stuttering breath, his head thrown back against the wall. His arms slipped over her shoulders, around her waist, pulling her into him even as he trembled against her. Jyn threaded her other hand through his hair, pulling it out of the quick bun that contained it. Bodhi’s hair was lovely, and offered such elegant leverage to pull him where she wanted. 

It was Cassian’s birthday. He hadn’t been inclined to share that information with them, but they had learned of it anyway after digging through his personnel files. It was why Jyn had convinced Bodhi to let himself be stripped down and sent to Cassian like a gift ready to be unwrapped from her. He was suppose to enjoy himself today of all days. 

And he had, if the slippery mess Jyn felt between Bodhi’s legs was anything to go by. Bodhi was loose and accommodating, already open by her own enthusiastic efforts earlier. Ready for Cassian to follow behind. 

“What happened?” She asked. First things first. 

“He put me against the wall,” Bodhi told her, his voice barely there but pushing through. He knew she wanted every last detail. “He asked me if you had sent me.” 

“And?“ 

“I told him you had. That he was suppose to enjoy himself for the both of us. That it was his birthday, so he deserved to take what he wanted.” 

“How was it?” she asked, even though she suspected she knew the answer. It was a constant, masochistic test she performed over and over, exacerbated by the fact that Cassian never failed. No matter how many different ways she or Bodhi came to Cassian, he wouldn’t take advantage. She no longer knew if she continued the tests to surmount the worry that one time, just one time, Cassian would fail, or for the horribly relieving reassurance that he never did. 

“He asked permission,” Bodhi confirmed, bringing that wanted relief, sharp and vivid and addicting. “Like he needed it. Wouldn’t move until he was sure.” 

“He would,” she agreed, smiling. “And you gave it to him?” 

"Yes."

Of course he had. It was Bodhi just the way she liked; shameless and shy in equal measure, eager to please and so good it almost hurt. There was little he would deny them. And he played Jyn’s games so wonderfully. 

In her defense, when she asked him to spread his legs for Cassian, there were no losers. Cassian loved the trust, Bodhi loved the comfort, and she loved the control. 

“When he took my clothes off,” Bodhi continued, trying to parse the story though the feeling of Jyn’s fingers tracing him. He shook his head, his hair falling loose around her fingers, and tried to form words. The devious part of Jyn wouldn’t allow it, and sunk her fingers deep enough into him to toy with the spot that sent him whimpering and crying and senseless. “He was surprised to find out I wasn’t wearing anything else besides my flight suit.” 

“Surprised?” Jyn prompted. 

“He…he told me he hadn’t expected me to do that.” Bodhi gasped. “I told him it had been your idea. That you hadn’t let me get dressed this morning. That you had decided I needed his c-cock in me to start the day.” 

Jyn had decided that. Bodhi had woken up in a mood to be used and Cassian’s birthday had sent her imagination tumbling. Bodhi cried out as Jyn’s fingers turned. She nuzzled a gentle path down his throat; a reward for a job well done and an encouragement. Bodhi had done so well, was doing so well, she wanted him to know she noticed.

“So he stripped you?” She asked. 

Bodhi nodded. “Pulled my flight suit off and down until it hung around my knees,” he confirmed. Jyn’s lust spiked at the image. Bodhi, quivering and begging against the wall as Cassian, consumed and unheeding of consequences, crowded against him. The two of them joining, only able to so quickly through her efforts, as Cassian chased his own pleasure in Bodhi’s body. 

“And his own clothes?” she prompted, keeping Bodhi on track. 

“Yes,” he confirmed, keening as he thrust against her. “He undid the buckles to his own trousers, let them slip down around his thighs. I snuck my hands under his shirt, pushed it up to his throat.” Jyn didn’t blame him; Cassian’s chest was a favorite target for them both, and he was so damn responsive the moment fingers prodded his nipples. 

“He fucked you?” she asked, direct. It made the blood in her veins pulse to even imagine it. Cassian in the throws of pleasure as Bodhi accepted every little thing he gave and begged for more. They were so appealing together. She wished she had the words to describe what they did to her. The raging heat they ignited in her. 

“Yes,” Bodhi confirmed, spreading his legs when her fingers prodded deeper. There had been no clean up. Cassian’s spend trickled down her fingers as Bodhi opened up for her. He had fucked Bodhi and buttoned him back up, a gift and a confirmation for her: look at what I did to him—can you do better? Can you pull him apart and put him back together better than I did? 

“He told me he wanted both of us,” Bodhi admitted. Jyn pressed her lips against his collarbone. Nipped a quick mark there, right beside one that hadn't been there this morning. Bodhi had done so well. “But he was more than happy to see me like this.” 

Jyn would have hoped so. She had sent Bodhi to him slick and stretched and ready to accept anything Cassian offered, only hidden by the sturdy, baggy material of his flight suit. She had greatly enjoyed putting Bodhi into that state too, slowly spreading and slicking Bohdi, coaxing him further and further into depravity. She had made a point to keep him from coming, figuring Cassian would handle it. But pushing Bohi to that point and letting him simmer there had been its own thrill. He was receptive to every little thing she did, and let her play him like a finely tuned instrument strung taunt and beautiful.

Bodhi cried out as her fingers went deeper, slowly spreading him and letting more of Cassian leak out onto her. “Tell me more?” she requested. She tried never to demand anything of Bodhi when he was this far gone. He would try to give her universes. He wanted to be so good, so perfect for them. “Did he make you cum?"

He better have. Bodhi was magnificent like this, what he was willing to do for them. He deserved their care in turn. He sobbed and twisted himself on her fingers, thrusting back against them like they were a cock meant to fuck him into the mattress. If he gave Jyn a moment, she could arrange that. She relished in the idea as she withdrew to her fingertips, giving Bodhi a space to breathe. 

“Yes,” Bodhi confirmed, panting and staring at her with dark, doe-like eyes that screamed for her to wreck him. “I didn’t even try to stop him.” 

“I'm proud of you,” she said, wanting her pleasure to filter through. He needed to know that he had fulfilled everything she had asked of him. She was proud—he had been worried when she had told him her plan. Fearful that he couldn’t pull off what she was asking of him. 

Bodhi’s taste and smell, and the phantom presence of Cassian over them, flooded her senses. Suddenly and abruptly, Jyn withdrew her fingers. She listened to Bodhi whine at the loss, and felt powerful and helpless in equal measure. 

“Soon,” she encouraged, tugging him towards their bedroom. “Just a little more.” 

She wanted to fuck him. Right behind Cassian. Wanted to see what reactions she could prompt, what comparisons Bodhi could draw from having them both so close together. She wanted to hear Bodhi cry out to the heavens in ecstasy as she took him, and imagine Cassian could hear them. 

She pulled his head down to her level. 

“Can I have you?” she asked. Testing again. 

“Oh please,” Bodhi exclaimed, leaning close to kiss his zeal into her. If Jyn didn’t know any better, she would have thought he sounded desperate and deprived. Like he hadn’t been thoroughly fucked less than half an hour ago. His hands skated her body, worshipping the slopes and curves through her shirt; her waist and breasts, shoulders up to her face as his beard brushed her cheeks. Yearning colored his kiss, and the breath they shared after. Jyn smiled as she tucked the dark strands of his hair behind his ears to better see his face. 

"Awww,” she whispered. “Did Cassian not take care of you?” 

“He did, he did,” Bodhi insisted. “But I want you too. Please.” he whined. So insatiable. Jyn couldn’t disagree. It was always better when the three of them could indulge together. 

“I can do that,” she assured Bodhi, who looked about ready to come apart at the mire suggestion. She laid him down across their sheets, careful not to linger with her touch and send him spiraling too soon. She wanted to be inside him the next time he came. 

If they had had their druthers, Cassian would have stayed in bed with them all day. They would have reveled in their bodies, _together_. But the damn man insisted on working through his birthday. Jyn required steps be taken. 

To her, those steps included preparing Bodhi for being fucked into next week and sending him to Cassian, needy and begging. If that didn’t bring their man to his senses in a nanosecond, Jyn didn’t know what would. 

Bodhi’s flight suit sat loose around his waist, and all it took was a shimmy and twist to get him out of it. Jyn wasn’t much better; after sending Bodhi off that morning all she had managed in the way of clothes was her underwear and one of Cassian’s shirts that Bodhi ended up stealing more often than not—she could smell both of them in the weave of the soft, worn-thin fabric. She tucked her kyber necklace into its pocket for safe-keeping—she liked to have it close, but its sharp edges and ridges made it an uncomfortable pressed between bodies. 

She set both shirt and necklace aside to abscond with later before returning to Bodhi and the bed. 

"Hands up," she requested, lightly tracing a path with her nails from his chest, over the delicate skin inside his arms and elbows, along his veins to his wrists, as he raised them. Her own fingers curled with his as they wound around the notches in the headboard. It left his body on display, his chest rising and falling with each deeply taken breath, his cock stirring against his stomach, and his eyes on her. 

“Be right back,” she promised him, rising to her feet. “Don’t move.” 

Bodhi groaned, but listened to her. She gave his inner knee a light brush with her knuckles for that as she got to her feet. 

Her harness, drawn from a nearby drawer and familiar-warm, was crafted leather and the minimum amount of steel in the buckles. She didn’t like the extra noise too much metal brought into the games. The accessories wasn’t the stars. She had a few different options for a phallus, and decided on the one that was just a little bigger, a little wider than she normally favored. She wanted Bodhi to be able to feel her. 

He didn’t require much preparation, but she spent time relaxing him instead. Settling between his spread knees, she etched simple geometric designs inside his knees, rubbed at the slender dip of his hips, pressed a quick kiss to the underside of his stiff, curved cock. 

“How hard did Cassian treat you?” she asked. Bodhi, eyes closed and drifting away from her, just a bit while he imagined, moaned that the reminder. 

“Hard,” he admitted. “Fast. We didn’t know how much time we had.”

So she’d go slow. Jyn was okay with that. 

She breached him, taking her time with lazy thrusts that eased the head of her cock into Bodhi’s body. He gasped at the stretch, his eyes snapping open to stare at her in amazement. 

“Oh, oh, that’s big,” he whined. 

“Yes,” Jyn agreed. He was already stretched wide around her, a tantalizing sight. “Good?” 

“Yeeeeesssss,” Bodhi hissed, eyelids falling again. He gulped and whined as Jyn pushed in another few inches, stopping along the way to add more slick around them both at her leisure. Soaked and slippery were two of her favorite ways to be. 

“Any complaints?” 

“Nononono, keep going, please keep going—so much, so much, please, please, please,”

“You’re almost there,” she encouraged. Her own pleasure was a simmering, bubbling engine sitting low in her belly. She was thoroughly enjoying herself and in no hurry to end it. 

Bodhi was close to crying when Jyn settled herself fully into him. She pressed her chest against his, entwining their heartbeats, and shaking as the pressure racketed up her pleasure. Coiling a hand into his hair, she nipped a trail from one shoulder to the other across his sharp collarbones. She’d be able to linger on the marks she left later. 

“Excellent,” she praised. “Keep it up. Want to tell me anything?” 

“It hurts, but the good kind of hurt,” he explained before Jyn’s worry could spike and overtake her pleasure. “The kind where I know I’m going to feel you both whenever I sit down for the next week. I’m going to be worried everyone else in the room will know what I let you do, but—but excited you did it.” 

“Will you want it again?” 

“Yes,” Bodhi replied without hesitation. 

Jyn kissed him; let herself pour into him, all the happiness, pleasure, and eagerness she couldn't ball into actual words and sentences. He opened up under her mouth, taking her challenge and embracing everything she showed him. 

“It’s as if I didn’t just fuck you into next week an hour ago,” a humored voice flouted over them. Jyn’s head came up as Bodhi jumped under her. 

Cassian stood in their doorway, his eyes dark and wanting. Took him long enough. 

“You gonna come join us?” Bodhi implored, his head tossed back against the pillows. “Or just stand and watch?” 

“Watching never hurt anyone,” Cassian replied, even as he took a step closer. Jyn rewarded him with another thrust, Bodhi cried out, and Cassian came closer still. 

“Yes, but it’s better to touch,“ she encouraged. 

“You only say that because you’re not standing where I am.” 

“I would have been if you’d stayed here this morning, instead of in the back of some shuttle.” Jyn was enjoying herself; she liked this slow pull, this teasing anticipation building between them. 

“Oh stars above,” Bodhi pleaded, much less appreciative for being made to wait. His hand stayed wound around the headboard slats, but his body trembled under her touch. His breath was reduced to tiny bursts of barely grasped air. “Please, please, come here.” 

Jyn couldn’t resist him, and neither could Cassian. Their rebellious captain crossed the rest of the room within a heartbeat, kneeling down to Bodhi’s level. 

“Is she being mean to you?” he asked, combing Bodhi’s loose hair back from his face where sweat made it stick to his skin. Bodhi opened his mouth to answer but Jyn pressed into him, long and even-paced, and he lost all his words. 

“I’ll have you know,” she said as Bodhi’s eyes rolled back. “That I am taking perfect care of him. Unlike someone who decided to go on duty this morning.” 

Cassian’s hand twined around hers in Bodhi’s hair. His other strayed down Bodhi’s heaving torso. 

“Should I leave you to it, then?” Cassian’s face showed his confidence, but also a vulnerable wanting. Jyn liked it, but knew he could do better. She dragged him in by the front of his shirt with her free hand, kissing him hard. 

“You should help Bodhi out,” she suggested instead. She picked a new rhythm for her hips; slow, long thrusts that pushed small gasps of _ah, ah, ah_ from Bodhi. She heard the high, screeching sound of his nails scratching against the metal headboard. 

“Oh, yes please,” Bodhi moaned. His body was tight, his features blissfully distant, his cock stood arched and leaking need. “Come on down, the more the merrier.” 

Cassian’s mouth twitched—he rarely smiled enough to show teeth, but Jyn learned to read the wrinkles around his eyes, the slight crease above his nose, the flush that stained the skin around his neck, to see his pleasure. 

“Alright,” he agreed. He ducked down, and unceremoniously slipped his mouth over the tip of Bodhi’s cock. 

Bodhi didn’t scream, but the noise he let loose came close, by Jyn’s approximation. His forearms twitched, and she waited to see if his hands would come down to grip Cassian on their own volition. But Bodhi, panting, wanting, and willing, simply readjusted his grip and held onto the headboard for dear life. 

“Ohh,” she praised. “So fantastic.” As a reward, Jyn acted as his hands. She rubbed her fingers on the delicate joints of Cassian’s neck and guided him down, just enough to encourage him. He yielded to her pressure and swallowed more of Bodhi down. 

Under their combined assault, Bodhi thrashed, trying to pull himself in two directions. “Almosttherealmosttherealmostthere!” He keened, babbling out his warning. 

“Let go,” Jyn ordered. Bodhi obeyed without question, and Cassian went still at his release. Jyn leaned down to kiss at the fragile skin under Bodhi’s eyes, even as her fingers smoothed down the nodes of Cassian’s neck and spine. 

She was so absorbed in Bodhi’s increasingly weak mewls that she lost track of Cassian’s hands. The buckles on her harness were slipped loose, just enough to snake the leather down her thighs, and his fingers eased into her folds, smooth and assured. She groaned and clamped down on them. No need for more slick; she was more than wet enough for him to slide into her. A steady pressure found her clit and circled, once, twice, thrice. His stubble rubbed against the tender skin between the valley of her breasts. 

“Ohhhh!” Jyn wailed, clutching Cassian’s shoulder and dragging him up into her orbit. She always thought she made far too much noise when she came, and she preferred to keep herself occupied with kisses or words rather than the screams that clawed up her tongue to chase the burning pleasure. Cassian surprised her, hadn’t given her time to distract herself, and her scream sounded off the walls. In revenge, she muffled her the rest of her cries with a sharp bite into the space where his shirt gave way to his collarbone.

Cassian didn’t yelp, but the quick tension that ricocheted up his back let Jyn know she had startled him in turn. She mercilessly worried his taunt skin and muscle as her body pulsed, holding his fingers tight. When her shoulders slumped and her breath returned, she let her teeth turn gentle, using the fuzzy come down to suck and nibble at her new mark until it was red-purple and unmistakable. 

“You deserved that,” she whispered into the bruise she left behind. Cassian’s laugh, quiet and soft, answered her. 

"I'm sure I did." he acknowledged, though there wasn’t a drop of remorse in him. Leaning away from her, he reached down to pet Bodhi's hair back, making sure his eyes were open and coherent. "Want us to clean you up?"

Hair rustled against the pillows as Bodhi slowly shook his head. "No. Want to...to feel. Just a bi-just for a bit,” he replied. Jyn pressed kisses across the bridge of his nose and high cheekbones. As he purred under her touch, she gently eased back and out of him. He hissed at the lose, his boneless legs falling open as she rose to her knees and stretched out her throbbing limbs.

"You did so well," she told him, caressing his close-by ankle. "Just rest for a bit." He looked sated and exhausted. 

But Jyn wasn't. Not by a long shot. Her orgasm left her feeling loose and alive, but she was never one to fall into drowsiness in the afterglow. Not when she could be alert to more possibilities. She turned to Cassian, catching his chin in her fingers to call his attention to her. 

“Do you want to be next?” she asked. Consideration filled Cassian's face. Jyn held her breath, letting the anticipation heighten her own resparked desire. It drowned out the anxiousness. 

Another agent, weeks ago, tried to tell her that keeping both of them to herself was selfish. That didn’t bother her as much—she had been selfish for years. But part of her still worried, because as much as she liked what they did, she could never be sure they wanted to keep it up as well until they said it. 

A bit unfair, seeing as she never could. 

“Yes,” Cassian admitted. “I think I do.” 

There was that damn relief again, potent like nothing else she had ever experienced. Jyn kissed him hard and biting in reward, stealing a gasp from his throat. Her men called her insatiable, but she like to think of it more like endlessly inventive. And selfish, ceaselessly selfish. 

No matter her wants, there had to be a moment of respite, first; Jyn to clean her gear, Bodhi to regain his senses, Cassian to lose his clothes.

The lull was odd for her—she wasn't sure how to cope with the the casual way they moved around each other; Bodhi slowly shifting and sighing as he enjoyed his afterglow while watching them; Caissan easing his way into comfort as he removed layer upon layer of clothing and cast it carelessly aside; Jyn watching them both as she touched up her sensitive lips, cheeks, thighs with lotion (she liked their scruff, so beard-burn was an obstacle she learned to plan ahead for). The calm serenity brought a heady intimacy around them, one that thankfully didn’t require Jyn to say much. They knew each other, knew what was coming next. Knew to revel in what they experienced now without the tangled aftermath; understanding without the complicated mess of traditional commitment. 

The lull broke into something more when Bohdi shifted to sit up, back against the headboard. Holding his hand out, he coaxed Cassian down to straddle his lap, muttering encouragingly all the while. Jyn saw an opportunity—she simply slipped back into bed and between Bodhi’s knees, spreading them until she had enough room for herself. Cassian groaned at the stretch that put on him, but suddenly trapped between them as he was, he had no where to go. 

It was a better position for him anyway. She and Bodhi had spent the last few hours playing and stretching and slicking. Cassian, good little soldier that he was, had missed much of the fun in lieu of boring responsibilities. If Jyn wanted to be inside of him, they would all have an easier time of it with him on his knees and her at his back. 

She had taken her time with Bodhi. She didn’t with Cassian. His hands scrambled for purchase against Bodhi’s shoulders as she pushed one abrupt finger into him. Slick and steady as she was, he couldn’t fight against her as she relentlessly played his body to her own ends. It awed her that she knew his body well enough to do so. 

Jyn hadn’t come into this arrangement a virgin, but she couldn’t claim to ever knew another’s body well enough to be able to make them writhe within heartbeats. That she knew Cassian’s body, Bodhi’s body, inside and out and so intimately, left her breathless and stunned in all sorts of ways. 

“And you say you’re not mean,” Bodhi gently chastised her. She hummed as she watched his fingers rub circles into Cassian’s hips, urging him to open up and embrace her. Cassian leaned into Bodhi to press their temples together, and Jyn took that as a signal for her next finger. His breath turned strangled and weak as Cassian shuttered against her. 

“You just going to let her win?” Bodhi kept up, bumping his nose against Cassian’s face. “You know she’ll be unbearable if you do.” 

Cassian groaned and tightened around Jyn’s fingers. She responded with a quick twist and a brush at a familiar spot inside of him. Instantly, he went pliant under her with a breathless whine. 

“How do you feel?” she asked, more to tease than anything. Cassian was nearly the exact opposite of Bodhi in that way. 

Bohdi wanted to talk about what they did to him. He could describe everything, the sensations, the pleasure, the pain, the desire that drove him. Bodhi adored relaying every thought that passed through his consciousness, but Cassian just couldn’t. He struggled to explain himself to them on a good day and, drowning as he was, nothing coherent was going to come now. 

“Gah—oh seas and skies why? Ah!” he threw out. Jyn laughed and dusted his spine with kisses. 

Cassian didn't form his pleasure into words. However, he did enjoy listening to his two talkative lovers go, as long as they occasionally remembered to kiss him. That was another rule, never discussed, but steel-clad. 

Jyn didn’t give him a third finger to stretch around, but his inner thighs were shiny and slippery with all the slick she decided to use. Bodhi laughed as she tossed the empty bottle off the bed. 

“That was a brand new bottle earlier this week,” he said lightly, as if commenting on a passing cloud in the sky. 

“Goes to show how enthusiastic we are,” she replied. And how often it got used. She was after the stretch of well-prepared fun, not the rasping burning pain of rushing. She’d pick up more from the quartermaster later. 

Thumbing at the base of Cassian’s spine in warning, she nudged her plastic cock into him in a steady, implacable pace. He went still as she did, stuttering breaths letting her know her progress. 

“Can’t argue there,” Bodhi offered, though he sounded distracted. Jyn was about to ask what could possibly be worth more interesting than them when Cassian moaned, deep and unrestrained. Jyn propped her chin on Cassian’s shoulder, right beside her mark, to glance down his chest, where Bodhi’s hands lingered by his nipples. Toying with them was a sure way to get Cassian mindless and writhing in seconds. 

It also gave Jyn an idea—one she had been idly daydreaming about since she first discovered how responsive Cassian was. Buried in him to the root, she stilled, and saw Cassian flutter and twitch around her. He whined at the lack of movement but she pacified him with a trail of kisses down his neck and between his shoulder blades until he settled. Bodhi made a curious noise when they quieted.

"I have a birthday request," Jyn announced. 

Bodhi laughed, agog. Cassian groaned and rolled his hips to tempt her back into movement. “Your birthday was last month. You’ve got almost a year to go until your next request,” Bodhi reminded her. 

Oh, and what a birthday it had been for Jyn. Clarifying, on so many fronts, on what birthdays were really for. Her men had indulged her more brazen tendencies and had let her choose where to fuck them; Bodhi in the cockpit of Rogue One, her straddling his lap in the pilot seat; Cassian at the edge of a nearby lake, half-covered in rain and dirt and long grass. And they had all enjoyed the venture enough to inspire her into arranging for Cassian and Bodhi's fun earlier that morning. 

But now she was onto the next idea. Jyn made a contemplative noise. “A suggestion for your birthday, then."

Bodhi hummed, and Jyn thought his attention was preoccupied by the abortive thrusts of Cassian’s hips. She could feel him trying to figure out how much leverage he had between them and what he could still accomplish while she and Bodhi conversed. 

"Cassian should pierce his nipples for us,” she said, slipping her arm inside Cassian’s elbow to rest on his stomach. The muscles there tightened instantaneously at her words. 

Bodhi’s eyes went wide, his expression dumbstruck. “Yes," he blurted out, looking between her and Cassian with excitement and enthusiasm. "Hell yes. They’d be beautiful, I swear. Just imagine it, okay?” he told Cassian. He brushed his fingers over Cassian’s nipples, and between them Cassian shuddered, instantly sidetracked. 

"Not bars,” Bodhi outlined, glee pouring forth onto the idea. “But gold hoops. Heavy enough that they’d bounce and tug every time you fucked. Light enough that no one would know they were there, though. Just our secret.”

A bone-weakening thrill built within Jyn as Bodhi spoke. She had suspected he would be as taken by the idea of Cassian so decorated as she was. Back when they were just beginning to explore each other, he almost brought Cassian to completion simply by lavishing attention on his chest for an hour. And Bodhi fancied these little negotiations between them, the ways they could potentially bend and preen and beg for one another. 

Cassian, pinned between Jyn’s cock sunk deep inside him and Bodhi’s gentle touches and onslaught of words, could only manage, “Missions—impractical." 

"There are ways around that," Bodhi instantly parried, seemingly determined to argue his newly adopted case. Jyn giggled into Cassian’s shoulder. 

“Not _ha!_ Helping,” Cassian choked, reaching back to pinch her thigh. 

“I’m not trying to help you out of this. Besides," she offered as her amusement turning wicked. "Think about Bodhi putting his mouth on them."

Bodhi took his queue immediately, and bent his head to breath over Cassian’s nipple. Cassian jerked, small and desperate, between them. 

“I think they’d suit you,” Jyn continued as Bodhi’s hand strayed over Cassian’s chest. “Around base, you’d always know they are there; too heavy to ignore, they'd pull every time you moved too fast."

“Troublemaker,” Cassian accused, but it came out half-hearted at best and trailed off as Bodhi reminded them how much he liked to use his mouth. Cassian reached up and threaded his fingers through Bodhi’s hair, cradling him close. His other hand clutched at Jyn’s thigh; she would have bruises there come morning. The pressure urged her on. 

"No one would see them under your clothes,” she said, her thoughts running wild and fun. “But the three of us would know they were there. Every time we got close you won’t be able to help but wonder if we’re there to take advantage.”

Cassian jerked and cried out, high and clear. Bodhi must have used his teeth. He rocked between them and Jyn, wrapped and buried in him, moved with him. 

“Been holding,” Cassian interrupted himself, scrambling his hands down Bodhi’s shoulders. He bent low enough to drop a kiss into Bodhi’s hair, a cascade of dark water in front of him. The rest of his sentence was whispered over Bodhi like a blessing: “Holding onto that one— _eeeehh_ for a while, huh?"

Jyn made a noncommittal sound. The idea had been bouncing around in the back of her thoughts for ages, but the occasion brought it to the forefront, fully-formed and electric like a live-wire. She pressed a kiss into Cassian’s hairline, just below his ear. Another at the joint of his jaw. “You don’t have to decide anytime soon,” she said. “But I think it’s something worth considering.”

Cassian gave her a breathless chuckle that reverberated down his spine and into Jyn. Her clit throbbed in response, addicted to the tease of friction each thrust brought her. “You both,” Cassian breathed, stuttering as Bodhi traded his left nipple for the right. “Made that clear.” 

“You should know by know that all my ideas are brilliant,” Jyn replied with lofty expectation. Cassian’s shoulders shook in his small, amused way, and Bodhi’s eyes appeared across his shoulders to smolder at her. She grinned and leaned forward, just enough to nudge deep inside Cassian. 

He descended back into wordless pleasure. Bodhi dropped a line of soft nips up Cassian's chest, his throat, his mouth. Jyn admired the sight of them tangled together before she fell back into the matter at hand. Because now the slow bubble of lust had ballooned into a raging, avalanching ball, and her imagination sparked again. 

She pulled out of Cassian, careful to keep the fat tip just inside of him, an alluring tease. Hands slipping down Cassian’s stomach, she found Bodhi’s fingers resting at his hips and wrapped them loosely around Cassian’s own neglected cock. 

“Just like that,” she whispered and Bodhi stayed put under her guidance. Jyn was thrilled, both her men, so damn perfect for her, knew she liked her plans and let her work. 

“So it’s your birthday, after all,” Jyn muttered into Cassian’s ear. “Do you want to come?” 

Cassian laughed, “Yes.” 

“Then chase it down,” she told him. “You have everything you need.” 

Her words acted as permission granted, and Cassian fucked himself back on her cock. Then forward pushing into Bodhi’s hand. He was gorgeous, moving between the two of them in abandon as he threw dignity and restraint to the wind. 

“That’s it,” Bodhi encouraged, staring up at Cassian with something Jyn may one day consider to be devotion. “You’re so close, just a little bit more. Looking so good.” 

Cassian made a noise as close to a laugh as he could manage, and abruptly stilled between them. His breath wasn’t coming evenly anymore, instead laying a rhythm of erratic, staggering whines. 

Jyn took the laid-bare queue and sunk herself in deep and true. Cassian gasp-screamed as he came. Bodhi cradled Cassian's face between his hands, thumbs gently petting over his cheeks, under his eyes. Jyn rested her head against Cassian’s shoulder and let the pleasure seep into her bones. 

Cassian wasn’t moving, but Bodhi was. His nimble fingers drifted from Cassian to her, spanning across the space between her ribs, brushing the low curve of her breast. 

“You good?” he wondered. Jyn groaned in response, startling a laugh out of them both. 

“Need a hand?” 

Rather than answer, Jyn shifted. It took some doing, around the harness and buried in Cassian, but in the end she guided Bodhi’s fingers into her. He danced over the folds of her cunt, slipping in so softly she was left whining for a want of friction. 

“Arn’t you too tired for revenge?” she demanded. Bodhi responded with a second finger, rougher now, and Jyn rode them mercilessly. Cassian shuttered as her movement affected him, but laid still under her ministrations. 

Jyn came like that, Bodhi’s urging and Cassian’s acceptance igniting the simmering spark she nursed into a towering furnace until her body spasmed and shuttered, mind-numbing and gasping pleasure blanketing her. 

Bodhi’s breathless laughter guided her down, and she panted hot breathes into the skin between Cassian’s shoulder blades. It felt wonderful. 

Her thoughts strayed in the hazy moment: she wondered how either of them felt about being taken twice at once. It would take some work, and they’d need plenty of preparation, but it wasn’t as if any of them lacked the determination to achieve it. If they hadn’t just completely incapacitated themselves in the name of Cassian’s birthday, she would have suggested it aloud. But Cassian and Bodhi needed rest. She got that. 

Jyn untangled them all and stood to clean up. She felt flushed, and baring a small but insistent desire to move. Her men weren’t offended when she slowly paced the room and eased the pulsing between her legs through her whole body. Bodhi just threw an arm out, and let his fingers brush against her thigh and hip whenever she walked close enough. Cassian watched her with blurred, half-aware eyes as he rested his head against Bodhi’s shoulder. 

Jyn considered them each in turn. What a pair they made; twined together in bed, slick between their thighs and thoroughly fucked, each of them. They had let her do that to them. Would continue to, as long as they all desired their arrangement to last. 

Jyn felt too much, like a bright, blinding star burning up under her heart. So she compacted it, tucked it away, and went to clean up. 

*

Jyn didn’t think there was anything wrong with their arrangement. Yes, they had fallen into it without much conversation; a little nudge here, a look there, a whisper just close enough to brush against skin. Jyn wasn’t one for installing an extended foundation before she reveled in her enjoyment. But neither were Bodhi or Cassian. There wasn’t the time to build foundations, what with the Empire rising and the fighting. The endless, endless fighting. 

Her men and she functioned. Functioned well, even. Successfully, she would go as far as to say. They had fun. She enjoyed Cassian and Bodhi, both individually and cohesively. Bodhi and Cassian enjoyed her, or so she hoped. 

That was little comfort beyond the walls of their rooms. The moment she stepped into the mass of others, fears and the doubts crept in, unbidden and dreadful. No one dared say anything to her—to begin with at least. But they made up for that courtesy in the looks. The sly grins that snuck out as people side-eyed her; the weird winks she received from across the room whenever she stood too close to Cassian. The awkward little half-laughs that bubbled out of their mouths whenever she mentioned Bodhi’s name. 

She knew it only increased when her back was turned. She knew her men saw it happen. Bodhi never explained exactly how he got into a fist fight with a private from the communications department, but the vulgar laugh she had heard right before the brawl broke out gave her enough of a clue. She didn’t know the whole story when Cassian’s chilly stares, so eerily similar to the expression he wore behind his rifle, crossed tarmacs and briefing rooms to sight giggling groups who wielded pointed gestures and excited whispers towards she and hers. But she could guess the important parts. 

Jyn wasn’t expecting much in the way of privacy—the Rebellion lived in each other’s pockets, and she knew the three of them hadn’t been terribly subtle in their affections. But she also liked to think they hadn’t unnecessarily invited attention upon themselves. Cassian’s reputation for privacy, withholding, and standoffishness among his fellow Rebels played to their favor the first few months and kept comments in check, but the gossip mill ground them out eventually. Once everyone felt comfortable talking about them, the opinions quickly followed. 

Jyn hated it. The looks and the laughs, they all made her feel like she was doing something wrong. That she should be commented upon and judged for a relationship she was still exploring. The agreement she had with Cassian and Bodhi wasn’t unusual—she could think of a handful of other relationships exactly like it throughout base. They weren’t abnormal for that. 

_But maybe they were_ , a small voice slithered in. Maybe the three of them were so screwed up and messed around they couldn’t understand that something was wrong. None of them held strong claims to normality or balanced emotions. Maybe that was why everyone stared, because something was _wrong_ with her and Bodhi and Cassian. 

Jyn’s stomach sank when she thought about it. Dark clouds descended over her thoughts; an invisible, unidentifiable weight hung heavy off her chest. She preferred not to examine it at all. The rumors would probably go away on their own if she simply ignored it long enough. She had done it before, in her grief over her parents, her anger and disappointment over Saw. 

Something else would grab the base’s collective attention eventually. She repeated that idea to herself until it sounded almost believable. 

The whispers were easier to ignore when she was on her own. When the three of them orbited each other, the protective instinct that ran like a current connecting them ran high. She couldn’t turn a deaf ear when she could see the worry chipping away at Bodhi’s smile; could see Cassian’s paranoia sharpening his eyes and shoulders. Alone, Jyn could ignore the looks and focus on what she needed to do. 

Only, the quartermaster was leering. Subtly leering, but Jyn was sensitive to it. She couldn’t help shifting under his scrutiny—a little to the left, a hair to the right, just the quietest relocation of her weight to ease the pressure building up the soles of her feet, her thighs, her spine. What the hell was wrong with her? She had stared down Imperial officers with ease, why in all the stars and universes was she breaking under this man’s cheerful gossip-mongering?

“What was that, again?” he prompted.

“You heard me,” Jyn snipped, viciously daring her skin to flush under the scrutiny. Getting a new bottle of slick shouldn’t involve this much conversation. 

“I only ask, because I think I filled that order for you a week ago—,” 

“You did,” Jyn interrupted. “But I need it filled again.” 

“Again?” The quartermaster settled his elbows onto the counter, his chin planted in his palm. “My, my.—that’s impressive. Wanna tell me about it?” 

“I don't,” she replied. She didn’t blush, but damn was it close. This was why they could never send Bodhi to pick up supplies. He’d either get so embarrassed he’d be perpetually tongue-tied, or start another brawl in less than a minute. 

The quartermaster grinned—smarmy, if Jyn had to put a name to the look he wore. Smarmy and slimy. She wanted to punch him, if only to remind herself of her ability to do so. 

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you,” the quartermaster agreed, amiable and smirking as he rummaged. Jyn bit her tongue to keep herself in check. She should have sent Cassian. No one gloated at Cassian. They were all too scared of him. Or maybe Kaytoo—all of this would have gone right over the droid’s head. 

The idea didn’t last long. Cassian wouldn’t let her send Kaytoo, who would ask too many questions, if only to completely clarify the situation. Because that’s exactly what they all needed. 

The quartermaster set down the bottle of slick on the countertop, casual as he pleased. “Sure you don’t want two?”

Jyn, disgruntled and annoyed at the unwanted window into her private affairs, despised that he was the only source of supplies on base. His job could be done by a vending machine, damnit. 

When she brought that up to Cassian, he asked her who she thought would restock the vending machine. She had plans to leave him limping for that. 

“We’ll be fine,” she opted for, jotting a quick signature across the requisition form. 

“I only suggest it because, you know, twice in two weeks. You guys must really be having a good time.” 

Contrary reactions pulled her apart. A small, objective side knew she was simply being ribbed. Familiar folks did that, and Rebels like to think of each other as family. But the dominant, more forceful side of her slid into the habitual, rigid face she showed the world. Why the hell was her sex life anything to comment on? 

“You must not be having a good time if you gotta ask,” she responded mechanically. The quartermaster laughed good-naturedly while Jyn handed over the release and grabbed the bottle. The sound didn’t quiet the constant nagging feeling in the back of her skull. 

Was there something wrong with what they were doing?


	2. How's Your Engine Running?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silence reigned as Chirrut brought his story to an end, the twining, heavy atmosphere dazzling her. She felt both heavier and lighter at once, the low light and the incense-tinged air suddenly affecting her. Her mood was mellow, her heartbeat calmer than it had been in weeks. 
> 
> “Does that help?” Chirrut asked.

The freshers on base were old-fashioned, water based, and took some adjusting to on Jyn’s part. It wasn’t that she disliked it—she had spent too much of her life covered in filth to turn her nose up at being clean, no matter the method. She simply believed water showers were rudimentary and time-consuming. It took too long to scrub the grim off with messy soap and toweling the spare damp while she listened to the excess water run down the drain felt wholly wasteful. Her hair took an age and a day to dry, and only ever got in her way all the while, sticking to skin and causing wet patches all down her shirt. It was frustrating and messy, and not in any of the ways she enjoyed. 

She voiced her annoyance in the off-handed way people do to fill the time while Cassian was in the fresher. The faint sound of water running caught her attention and wouldn’t let her concentrate on her report.

(Who ever thought a Rebellion required paperwork? Jyn surely hadn’t. Cassian had threatened to find a spare room and sleep away from them before she had finally submitted her first SitRep.)

Bodhi, sitting across the room, sent her a look over his own padd screen that was equal parts shy and sly. Jyn’s skin pricked, suddenly and urgently awake. She tapped her report closed on the idea that she’d soon have something better to concentration on. 

Sure enough. “Bet you twenty credits I can change your mind,” Bodhi offered. 

“You’re just looking for a thrill ever since the Starfighters threw you out of their weekly sabacc game,” she taunted.

Bodhi shrugged and didn’t deny a thing. After a month of wiping the floor with his competition, he only ever got invited to games that involved greenhorns in need of fleecing or over-cocky, smarmy shits whom he could be counted on to take down a peg or two. Jyn suspected he would have preferred it otherwise, but let it go in the name of camaraderie. 

“Doesn’t mean I can’t do it,” he insisted, soft and just a level above sensual. Jyn’s interest honed to a fine point. Bodhi never sharpened when he flirted. Instead, he eased his way into desire, lackadaisically-limbed and sultry-eyed. Something about his earnest yet leisurely enthusiasm caught her attention, and Jyn set her padd aside. Propping her chin on her palm, she studied him. 

“How hard you planning on working for it?” she probed, testing, teasing, offering up the go ahead for the question he cast her way. 

Bodhi grinned and slinked out of his chair, down onto his knees. Jyn leaned back and appreciated the show. Letting her legs fall open, she kept herself otherwise still as Bodhi curled between her calves, fingers at the catches of her boots. He slipped them off, one at a time and with an extra care he usually reserved for engine repairs. 

With her boots set aside, his clever fingers moved up, tapping against her belt buckle. She lifted her hips, but did nothing else to help him along. Not that he needed much encouragement; her trousers were down her thighs before she could settle back into her seat. Bodhi, eyes demure but mouth wicked, pressed a kiss into the dimple of her knee. Down the side of her calf; around her ankle; back the other way. Her fingers caught a stray strand of his hair, tugging lightly. 

“This isn’t winning you any bets,” she reminded him. 

Once, minutes and days and countless _weeks_ ago, and in a much less compromising situation, Bodhi told her how surprised he was she had inherited so little of Galen’s stately patience. Jyn liked to think he knew better than to mention it now, with his face buried between her thighs, but his expression, half-fond, half-exasperated, told her he was thinking it loud and clear. She tugged at his hair again in silent retaliation. 

Rather than answer, Bodhi tugged her up and up, until she relented and stood. He didn’t follow, instead choosing to stay kneeling at her feet, an eager supplicant to her. Jyn laced her fingers through his hair, easing the constricting hairties out to bounce away along the floor. Bodhi didn’t protest the loss, too preoccupied with slipping her trousers down and away. Each brush of his fingers against the sensitive skin of her inner legs felt like a devotion. Her knees nearly buckled when his lips began the trail his fingers set. She keened, low and long; it was a softer sound than she was used to hearing from herself. The sensations shook her, frightened and enthralled her in equal measure. The combination of Bodhi’s delicate, calloused fingers, bristled cheek, and warm breath nearly ended her then and there, no stimulation required. 

Jyn didn’t want it to end so quickly. She pulled at Bodhi’s hair, harder than she meant to, and the sudden gasp against her thigh jolted her. Urging him up, she took his mouth in a greedy kiss. 

She worked to undo the fastenings of Bodhi’s jumpsuit, but her fingers were surprisingly uncooperative. Her fumbling set an aggravating rack against the pleasurable bubble Bodhi had breathed into her. The combination tumbled over her senses too quickly, too ferociously, bleeding away anything else she may want to think about. 

He walked her backward, working the rest her clothes off as they went. Taking the duty of his own clothes off her hands, he stripped down as they passed through their sleep quarters, only lingering as the jumpsuit passed his all too tantalizing shoulders, down his torso, catching on his waist. She was always endlessly grateful how ready he was to shimmy down to nothing. They stumbled into the fresher, and the steam-drenched air instantly clung to every inch of her skin. Bodhi’s as well. Damn, he may have had a winning point. 

If Cassian was surprised to see them, he didn’t show it, merely glanced their way through his lashes like he did when he was considering exit plans and weak spots. Hot water slipped off his shoulders, rolled down his torso, and any concerns she had about the steam disappeared as she and Bodhi fell into him. 

They ended up on the floor of the fresher, Jyn slowly taking Bodhi inside of her. He swore softly as she clenched down on him. Cassian kissed her as he slid down Bodhi’s back, exploring in his own time. The sex was slick and fun and she found herself suppressing giggles in her throat. When was the last time she giggled? 

Later, she tugged Bodhi close to stuff twenty credits into the collar of his shirt, for once layered under his jumpsuit. “Feel free to prove me wrong whenever you want,” she encouraged.

He grinned and nipped at her fingers. 

*

Debriefings were among the dullest meetings in the galaxy; Jyn only stayed in her seat because the sessions were about the only time she could watch over Cassian as he explained himself to his superiors. Boredom be damned, she wouldn’t leave him unsupervised in the midsts of his transition from active to passive, agent to rebel. All the movement he stilled during their mission came to life in this darkened room, flooding him, forcing him into physical action as he spoke about himself, his actions, his thoughts. The lines created by his shoulders, his back, his ass, his legs, were captivating enough to destroy any tedium brought about by the droning situation. Gentle blue light from the consoles highlighted his face. 

His fidgeting was small, unnecessary, and absolutely beautiful; small shifts of his weight from hip to hip, a roll to work his shoulders loose of tension, a stretch his back to align his spine, a deep breath to expand his chest; a brutal intelligence officer disintegrated away to reveal a respectable, brilliant man of the rebellion. This was the room where he dropped Captain Andor and slipped into Cassian. Moving let him concentrate on his body, on the transformation, while his mouth spoke, struggling with the words to justify himself. 

Beside her, Bodhi resettled into his seat, the third time in five minutes. She wasn’t the only one affected by Cassian’s slow unraveling in front of them. They couldn’t touch, unfortunately. When Cassian struggled to articulate his thoughts with them, they could simply pin him down and bring out his words in other ways: kisses and wicked prompts, dangling promises of pleasure in return for a full sentence. Urging brought on by tongue and curious fingers and gentle, coaxing stretching. 

They couldn’t offer him such comfort here, not with so many eyes on him that his recalcitrance became tinged with aggravation and avoidance. The elegant torture she inflicted upon herself was in the unspoken order that forced her to keep her hands to herself. But she could remind him they were here, that there was reward after this room of agonizing procedure, after this exposure of himself that he detested. All he needed to do was finish talking. 

This was the patterned they had unintentionally designed in their time together. She couldn’t admire Cassian like this during a mission—she liked her head where it was, thank you very much. Distractions were not helpful, or welcome in those situations. But in the safety of the debrief, with no one shooting at her and no enemies to be on the lookout for, she could admire as much as she pleased. And once he was done talking, once he had answered all the questions he was asked and laid himself bare for either the adulations or chastisements of his superiors, she would collect him. Ease the last of the grim grip of war off him and remind him there were reasons to revel. 

She would herd him back to their rooms where they would work to strip away the last few layers he left himself. Fill the silence with gasping and ease the tension building up behind his deep eyes. 

Beside her, Bodhi shifted again, his own agitation rising at the prolonged wait. She laid her hand across his thigh in a comforting, calming gesture. Her rough fingers brushed against the seam of his flight suit. He held out remarkably well, in her option. More often then not, the anticipation got the better of him and he would opt to remain back in their quarters until they were free. Watching Cassian, waiting for that glorious moment he was released from one authority to another, reveling in the uncertainty of time, listening to him give pieces of himself to the cause he had worked so long and had for, was sometimes too much for their gentle pilot. He overthought the delicate strain, made it more brutal than pleasurable. 

He settled under her hand, comforted by the connection. She rubbed a little harder in reward, letting him know she was paying attention and happy he was no longer squirming. 

“Alright?” she asked, low enough to to keep the illusion they were alone. 

“Antsy,” he replied in her ear. “I wish they’d hurry up and let him go.” 

“Soon,” she promised. She couldn’t be sure how long, time always slowed to a crawl as Cassian switched roles, but the questions were becoming more abstract, and Cassian’s answers shorter. Yes, she was confident their punishing little dance was nearly over. 

When Cassian was released to them, he shoulders slumped in exhaustion and no words left on his tongue, she let Bodhi kiss him first. His hands fisted into Cassian's shirt under his jacket and their chests pushed together, sharing breathing air. The wall at Bodhi’s back did more to hold them up than their bodies did. Cassian’s tired body collided with Bodhi’s anxious energy, mixing and swirling before Jyn’s eyes. They balanced each other, working to find an equilibrium that satisfied them both. Their captain returned whole and hale as Bodhi poured adoration into him. 

When she pet at Cassian’s shoulders, Bodhi’s hair, they pulled her in, let her slide into the warmth between them as they kissed over her shoulder. She settled in, the center that balanced the scales her men tittered on. She didn’t want to be the center of attention in this moment, only allows to leach the exact amount of affection she wanted from their quickly building lusts. Here, sandwiched between, she could be a part of them, yet allowed the distance to merely monitor and encourage. 

They were far too good of her; she had known this for months now. So intuitive and responsive. Open to their emotions, and never demanding she reciprocate, never demanded she give more than she could scrap together and push towards them. 

They didn’t make Cassian speak that night, but he did sob. As Bodhi took him into his mouth, Jyn urged the noise out of his throat with kisses and encouragements. He broke between them, crying and twisting and moaning, pulled between their tongues, Jyn’s on his lips and Bodhi’s in his cock. Balanced, she thought with a deep satisfaction as her men drifted to sleep. As in tuned as an engine. 

*

Rogue One was on mission. 

Cassian had them on an old stealth ship built an era ago, created from origins he declined to identify. Rogue One rarely used the same ship twice. The stealth cruiser, despite its name, was a flashy thing. It was immediately identifiable in the docking bay, and held valuable technology that could be pried from within its consul dash and sold for a tidy profit; a smuggler’s greatest temptation.

So Jyn and Bodhi held down the shuttle. She sat in the co-pilot’s chair, her blaster resting causally across her lap, her truncheon extended and pressed reassuringly against her leg. She checked it every so often, feeling for the familiar comfort of the heavy metal.

She glanced over to Bodhi, who occupied himself with crowd-watching. The radio in the dash was cranked near maximum. She and Bodhi typically agreed: music’s only acceptable volume was loud and angry. 

Once upon a time, the screaming beat helped drown out the din of her own guilt and grief. It did nothing for her now; she reached out and turned the dial. Bodhi made a curious noise, stirring from his seat. 

“Do you think we have too much sex?” she asked, and immediately clamped her mouth shut. She probably could have broached that better. Sure enough, Bodhi jumped, startled and blushing. He looked at her with those damn doe-eyes that made her melt every time. 

“No,” was his answer. 

“But, like. We have a lot sex,” she persisted. The more she vocalized it, the more she realized a) how ridiculous a complaint it was and b) how deeply it troubled her despite the ridiculousness. Where they coming at this from a bad angle? People didn’t whine about this particular situation, and that worried her. Being an outlier was a quick way to draw attention. “More than normal couples do, I think. Is it too much? Is it a warning sign? Are we over-compensating?"

“I-ah. That’s the opposite of what most couples struggle with, I think. I mean, I’ve heard people complain about not getting any,” Bodhi’s face was bright red, but she had asked him a question. He was going to try and answer it. She admired his persistence to please. “But, but I can’t think of a couple who ever complained about the opposite. Is—would that be something? Something to complain about, I mean?” 

“But that’s just the thing,” she replied. “I don’t know if it’s something to worry about. We’re not a couple. I’ve never been part of a couple. Have you?” 

Bodhi’s eyes revealed everything about him. “No. No I haven’t.” 

“And I’ll bet the galaxy Cassian never has,” she continued. “Besides, we're not even a couple, there are three of us. Are we doing something wrong?” 

Bodhi shifted until he was leaning his side into the pilot's seat, facing towards her. She was distracted by the way his hair fell over his forehead, down his temple, curling around his ears as he leaned his cheek against the headrest. He very deliberately did not touch her, and she in turn didn’t want to touch him. She didn’t think they’d finish their discussion if they started touching each other. Rational thought went out the window when she had him under her. 

“Are you worried out about Cassian right now?” Bodhi suddenly asked. Jyn’s mouth twisted in surprise before she could stop herself as her shoulders tensed; every instinct she had screamed at her, telling her not to say a word. If she let on how valuable Cassian was to her, she’d be revealing a vulnerability she couldn’t afford. She’d be putting Cassian at risk, exposing a weakness in his armor he wouldn’t be able to anticipate. 

Then she remembered who was asking her. Bodhi’s face showed her nothing but honest curiosity. His bare expression made Jyn think passed her instincts. She wasn’t completely sure if she had words for him, and it made her reluctant to open her mouth. Bodhi wanted a real answer, and she didn’t want to rush for one just to please him.

She could identify dread that made her feel heavy and nervous. It pushed her stomach up her throat and killed her appetite, even though she hadn’t eaten all day. She was antsy, fidgeting; her eyes flickered out the windows every few minutes, looking for a familiar face in the crowd around the dock. She couldn’t focus on little things, like the words to the song on the radio, or how many guns the dock had on its protection detail. 

This was worry. She was worried. Unable to say it, she nodded. Thank the stars above that was enough for Bodhi. 

“I am, too,” he told her, and she was envious at how easily he said it. “I know I shouldn’t be—Cassian's been doing this for longer than either of us could imagine. And he knows we’re waiting for him to come back safely. And he has Kaytoo. Chirrut and Baze are out there, no doubt they’ll know if something goes wrong. But I’m still worried.” 

Jyn agreed with a small hum. It was the best she could do. 

“I know, rationally,” Bodhi continued, slowly, as if he were pushing through engine sludge looking for a fallen wrench. “That I need to be here. On this shuttle. I’m the pilot, and I’m the exit plan. But you’re not. So, if you're worried, why didn’t you go off with him?” 

Because this harbor is infamous for ship-stealing, Jyn thought. If they saw you were left alone, you’d be a prime target. They would come for you, and you wouldn’t be able to fend them off by yourself. The ominous, horrible, dark _they_ that always remained faceless, but dressed in white with bellowing capes, hovered around the edges of her thoughts. _They_ could want Rogue One. _They_ could kill Bodhi, dump his body out the hull, and take off without looking back. _They_ wouldn’t care that Bodhi’s corpse would shatter a part of her that was growing larger each day. 

She wanted to say all of that, and more. She wanted to assure Bodhi her affections for him were deep and unfathomable. She wanted to spill all uncertainty and immutable emotions she could label out onto the ship deck and ask Bohdi to sort through them with her.

Not a word of it could pass her teeth, no matter how hard she tried. She couldn’t say it out loud. 

“Because…because I’m…worried, too,” she finally achieved, barely pushed it out past a whisper. 

Yet Bodhi smiled at her, rewarding her for even that piddling effort. His body remained sideways in the jump seat, languish. He trusted that, if a threat came through the door, she would handle it. She wouldn’t let _them_ come for him. She tried to reflect his smile back to him. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” he admitted once the quiet between them grew comfortable again. “I don’t like worrying about you both.” He straightened in his seat, fingers straying towards the radio controls, and the music once again radiated off Rogue One’s hull. “This way I can keep an eye on one of you, at least.” 

*

Jyn was stuck. She had been forced into a dank, underground road by the market square and her options were limited. Imperial boots on the street, no blaster in her hands, and stuck until the rest of her team got to her. She scrubbed her face to keep her frustration at bay. Damn every star in the sky, this wasn’t her idea of a successful mission. 

There was nothing to be done for it, though. She was stuck until the others gave her an exit. At least the underground road was mostly abandoned—it seemed the city’s population preferred the more conventional roads above her as they were basked in the sunshine, not the dank darkness that surrounded her below. She didn’t blame them. The mirky light that filtered down to her left her wanting for the heat and light from their three suns. But the scarcity of civilians likely meant the Imperial stormtroopers had no idea the underground roads were even an option. She was safe here, for the moment. Practicality overrode desire, and she slumped against the wall to wait. 

Above her, a couple argued, their voices shouting whispers. Jyn paid them attention because she had nothing else occupy her attention. She couldn’t make their figures out through the dingy light but she could hear them clearly enough. 

“I don’t know why we’re doing this again, it’s not going to change anything!” 

“Because I love you!”

"Then you can't smoother me," the first one demanded. "I have to be able to do this on my own!" 

"But I couldn't go on if anything happened to you," the second cried. Jyn was almost physically repulsed. That was a horrible thought. People always went on, she had always went on, would always go on as long as her feet could carry her. She couldn’t imagine sinking herself so far for another that she risked paralyzation without them. It just seemed so dragging, such a heavy burden needlessly lugged around. She learned it was much easier to cope with loss if she accepted it was always a possibility. 

They had to know, Jyn eventually surmised. She watched the show play out above her, arms crossed and supporting her chest. They had to know they’d lose each other eventually. If not to events around them, then to their own choices. To disasters. To death. But it was like they didn’t care. If they tied themselves to each other so tightly that they’d drag each other down, that wouldn’t matter any more to either of them. They committed so easily. That was…Jyn tapped her fingers against her ribs, unsettled. Why was it so easy for them to talk about? 

"I know, I would too," the first of the couple above her urged. “Losing you would end me."

"Then you understand why this hurts! Why I'd rather stop breathing then let you out of my sight!”

 _Really?_ Jyn wanted to ask. How? How could you simply stop living? She'd never want that for Bodhi or Cassian. If she left them, decided something wasn't working, it would hurt but the galaxy would continue to spin. She would want them to move on, not to stop.

Unbidden, unwanted, but compelled, she thought about losing either of her men. She would be angry, she imagined. Wrathful and demanding revenge, if someone took them from her. But she couldn’t imagine stopping. Wallowing. She would want to _do_ something. 

Jyn remembered Baze, sitting at the foot of Chirrut's medical bed, eyes pressed closed and praying. He later told her he hadn't known what else to do, hadn't been able to make a decision for himself, even on something as inconsequential as clothing or food. It hadn't been until Chirrut was back amongst the land of the living that the man who fired cannons at stormtroopers and called her 'little sister' reappeared. His abrupt absence had left her chilled. The paralyzing force that overtook him scared her, all brought on because he couldn’t function without his love. 

Cassian would want her to go on. He'd want her to finish the mission. 

But almost as soon as Jyn thought it, she hesitated. She had never asked Cassian about this, so she rightly didn't know what he wanted. She had always simply assumed she knew his wishes: he wasn’t terribly ostentatious in his goals, and shared her laser focus on all things brutally practical. 

Bodhi. She didn’t even know where to start with Bodhi. 

"I have to do this. The Empire has taken too much from us."

"Then let me go with you! Don't banish me from your sight." 

"You have a life here! I can't ask you to abandon all that for me." 

"I would, though! Today, just this afternoon—I would walk away from it all, my family, my friends. They can't replace you to me." 

Jyn remembered her parents, and the hissing, snipping, passionate argument that ended with them wrapping her up in a blanket and escaping out the back door of the fancy, sky-highrise she once called home. She couldn't recall the words of their argument, but she remembered the sound of their pleading, the passion in their voices as they went back and forth. It didn’t sound like the argument happening above her head.

She and her men didn't argue like that. Sure, she and Cassian could go round and round at increasing volume on things like mission perimeters or how to reasonably interpret concepts like 'stealth' and 'use of force', but their arguments never tumbled into the subject of their emotions. Bodhi could curse like only a pilot could and fill the air with ranting, half-incomprehensible sentences when his stress crawled high enough, but that was typically due to external factors. He never poured himself out, like the couple in front of her. He never stripped his heart raw and held it out to them in expectation and demand and at the complete mercy of their decisions. 

Saw never had anyone like that to speak of in his life. At all. The man who would have been her father had never loved anything but the rebellion. Jyn had grown to hate that irrational, unquestioning devotion. It was what had caused him to leave her alone and abandoned, like a cast off tool no longer needed.

Which way was the right one? Which one was she supposed to follow? Was it like a mission, where only one outcome was acceptable and everything else was a failure? A loss? What if she picked wrong? 

She couldn’t have this conversation with her men. Cassian would run for the hills rather than talk about things like this. It was no question in her mind that, if she prodded him with her insecurities, he would disappear by sun down. She'd have to spend a month tracking him down, if he even let her. He was more unsuited for this maneuver than she was—he had followed orders. She at least learned to disregard them after a while. Bodhi may try talk it through with her, but she’d need to initiate the conversation. He'd never broach it himself. A part of her believed he was still waiting to wake up from a dream, to a world where he had nothing. He was clinging to every moment they had together as if it was their last. 

They didn’t fight, not the way her parents did. They didn’t offer their whole existence to one another like the couple above her, like Baze and Chirrut. They didn’t argue and snipe, like the Princess Leia and her scruffy smuggler. They fucked, and they tried their best to press themselves into each others skin. Where they on the wrong path? Was what they were doing just depraved ways to relieve the stress of warfare? All the fun and laughter she spent on them suddenly felt hedonistic and self-indulgent in the face of the earnest emotion she witnessed above her.

She tried to imagine saying their words herself, but they didn't feel right in her mouth. She knew she cared about them—if either Cassian or Bodhi were taken from her, she'd hate the world all over again, but Jyn could conquer loss. She had before. She couldn't fathom what she'd feel if that time ever came, but she wouldn't simply stop functioning. She couldn't. How could something like that freeze a person? Was that common? 

As the couple above her drifted away, Jyn was left alone with her troubled thoughts. She honestly couldn't answer. She didn't even know where to begin. 

*

Jyn couldn’t stand the uncertainty anymore, so, logically and practically, she took stock of her resources. This wasn’t impossible, she told herself. Merely difficult. Every father in her life had taught her to work through difficulty until her problems ran clear. She simply had to reevaluate the nature of the difficulty. 

In the morning, Jyn knocked on their neighbor's door. Baze answered, looking drowsy and put-out. 

“It’s barely dawn,” he said, sounding disgusted by the mere concept. 

“Sorry for the hour,” she muttered, shouldering her way inside. The unforgiving morning was about the only time she could reliably say Cassian and Bodhi were dead asleep. And well…she didn’t want them knowing her doubts. Not when she could barely piece together into a coherent thought herself. Her worries could only upset and derail her men, who already struggled so much to make themselves understood to her. 

“Ah, Jyn!” Baze may be half-asleep, but Chirrut was decidedly not. Cheerful as ever, he was already fully dressed and settled on the floor, the morning’s bright heat bleeding in from the window at his back. Before him sat a trio of tea cups. "What brings you to our doorstep?” 

She sat down across from him, legs folded and fingers braiding together. The the tea cup was not the coffee she so desperately wanted. She stared at the murky green and yellow ripples as she put words together, forming her worry, her concern, into plausible terms. She didn’t think she explained herself clearly, but Chirrut and Baze listened without interruption until she wound down. 

“I think…” Jyn started, but didn’t quite know how to keep going. “I don’t know what comes next. Am I doing something wrong?” She twisted her fingers together, torn in her decision. 

"Do you love them?” Baze asked, apropos of nothing. He had settled in behind Chirrut, but while the monk sat he reclined, already looking half-asleep. 

"I'd prefer we use a different word." 

"Did you have one in mind or shall I substitute any verb I feel like, little sister?” 

“Look, it’s not as if I’m trying to be difficult, I just don’t think…” she trailed off. She didn’t have words for what buzzed in her chest, that unsettled and twisted her whenever she prodded it. 

“Would it help if I told you a story?” Chirrut offered after she had dangled on the edge of uncertainty long enough to make the silence awkward. His fingers danced lightly around the rim of his tea cup. 

She blinked. That…well, she didn’t know what she had expected, but not that. “Uhh...” 

“It’s a good one about a courtesan, a thief, and a mechanic I once knew.” 

Jyn didn’t know how a story would help, but she _had_ come to them. She supposed she was stuck with their methods. “Alright,” she acquiesced. 

_“I know a thief,”_ Chirrut began, _“Who burgles houses in the dead of night. On one particular night, the thief steals into one particular house only to come upon a dead homeowner and a beaten, bloodied courtesan._

_‘Did you do this?’ the thief asks._

_‘Yes, because I had no choice,’ the courtesan replies._

_The thief, seeing the courtesan’s dire wounds, agrees. There was no choice. But now the watch are coming, and there is no where to hide. So the thief, doing as thieves often do, takes the courtesan._

_They rush through the streets together, dodging into shadow, hiding amongst the shops. But the watch is clever, and continues to corner them. Though the courtesan’s wounds hinder them, they must keep moving. They come to a shabby mechanic’s shop; the door’s lock is nothing to the thief, who breaks into the shop’s protection to help the courtesan._

_The shop’s owner, our mechanic, is still awake, however. And hears the thief’s noise. Coming downstairs, the mechanic finds the worried thief and the wounded courtesan._

_The mechanic could call the watch. The mechanic is poor, after all, and perhaps the watch could be persuaded to be generous in return for obedience. But, knowing the horrors the thief and the courtesan would face should they be caught, the mechanic hides them instead. Deep within the mechanic’s shop they huddle, pushed by the mechanic between coils and engines._

_The watch comes knocking. ‘I haven’t seen anyone,’ says the mechanic. ‘There is no one here but me.’_

_‘We must search your property,’ the watch insist. The mechanic steps aside for them, but only to step in front of the place where the courtesan and the thief hide. The mechanic does not move again, as all the while the watch tear the shop apart, looking for any sign of the thief and the courtesan._

_Standing around the shop’s ruins, the watch threaten the mechanic. ‘If they are here and you are hiding them, you will be punished,’ they say._

_The mechanic does not know where they are._

_‘You will be arrested and sent away,’ the watch says._

_The mechanic does not know where they are._

_‘We will come back and burn your shop down if you do not tell us,’ the watch threaten._

_The mechanic does not know where they are, though everyone knows the watch’s threats to be true.  
Finally, the watch leaves, and the thief, with the help of the mechanic, is able to help the courtesan recover. _

_‘You must run,’ the thief tells the mechanic. ‘They are coming back to burn your shop down.’_

_But the mechanic has injuries to help patch. Once the bandages are tied in place and the ointment applied, the thief makes to leave. The mechanic makes to leave. There could be nothing left for them in the shabby shop._

_But the courtesan, a famous and popular figure of the trade, refuses to allow the mechanic and the thief to leave for the unknown should the courtesan be able to offer them more. ‘I will hire you,’ the courtesan says, turning to the mechanic. ‘My things are always breaking. I need someone to help me fix them. You can live with me and fix my things when they break.’_

_The mechanic could refuse. This is not the world as the mechanic understands it. But who would help protect the reckless thief and the kind-hearted courtesan if the mechanic left?_

_The courtesan turns to the thief. ‘My enemies sneak around me and take my things. Once the mechanic fixes them, I need help protecting them. You know how they sneak. You can live with us and help us keep safe.’_

_The thief could refuse. This is not the world as the thief understands it. But who would help protect the sweet mechanic and the gentle courtesan if not the thief?_

_‘You could hire all the help and protection you need,’ the thief tells the courtesan. ‘You are not for want of love or money.’_

_‘I am not for want of money,’ the courtesan agrees. ‘But in love I know only dishonest affection. You both are honest. Will you stay and show me honest love?’_

_The mechanic agrees to stay, to protect and to love._

_The thief agrees to stay, to take and to love._

_The courtesan takes them home, to learn and to love._

_Each could not survive without the other. If not for the thief, none of them would have met the others. If not for the mechanic, the courtesan and the thief would have been captured. If not for the courtesan, the thief and the mechanic would never have a home. Just as they are one in themselves, so too they are a part of each other, never to be divided.”_

Silence reigned as Chirrut brought his story to an end. The heavy atmosphere dazzling her, muting her internal discord. She felt both heavier and lighter at once, the morning light and the incense-tinged air affecting her in ways they hadn’t when she had first sat down. Her mood was mellow, her heartbeat calmer than it had been in weeks. She stretched to remember why she had been so worried an hour ago. 

She said nothing in the silence, slowly untwining her fingers as she relaxed. She could see the point of the story—the eventual bringing together of a relationship that much mirrored her own with her men—but the roles didn’t line up to her. She doubted she was supposed to be the courtesan, but did that leave her the mechanic or the thief? id it matter? The mechanic seems like the hero of the story in every version of the word she had ever learned. But it still felt like she was missing something. 

“Does that help?” Chirrut asked. 

Lost in her thoughts, she held her hand out and tilted it back and forth rather than answer. 

“Think on it,” he suggested. “Rushing into action feeds no mouths. If you find yourself lost in a day or two, we can speak again.”

“Another story?” 

“Quite possibly.” 

Baze snorted, which Jyn suspected he only did to let Chirrut know his expression was one of disbelief and bemusement. Stretched behind them as he was, he worked up the effort to nudge Chirrut in the thigh with his boot. “Riddle-speaker,” he accused, fondness coloring his words. 

Rising, Jyn left them to their morning routine. She was no less confused when she left their quarters, spinning and catching and striving in spinning circles. Leaning against the wall outside their front door, she took a moment to breath, to center herself.

She didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It was habit, really. She hadn’t even realized she’d done it until their conversation picked back up through the thin door. 

“Was that really the best tale to tell her? It's a little simplistic.” she heard Baze grumble. 

“I prefer to think its idyllic. What would you suggest? The tailor and the twins?” 

Shuffling—Baze huffed, disgruntled and affectionate in one heaving gust. “I would hope not—I dislike the idea of them emulating a story that ends in murder-suicide. But was something like the singer, the dancer, and the wayfarer too much of a stretch for you?” 

Chirrut made a noise that was just on this side of displeased. “Traditional, but that would still end with one of them unhappy. As would the sailors and the sea. We know too many tragedies, my dear.” 

“Yes,” There was more sounds of movement. "You know they’re all three going to think themself the mechanic, don’t you?”

“It’s one of the great hopes I have for their relationship,” Chirrut replied. 

*

Jyn ate breakfast alone; the mess hall was loud, and its ebb and flow masked her presence; everyone was so focused on their own conversations her lack of words started no one. For all she sat in the center of the scattering of tables, she may as well be in an empty room. The constant rush of people allowed for its own invisibility. It was peaceful in the revolving chaos, and let her work her way though the twisting path of her thoughts. 

After she contemplated the story, she concluded that Chirrut and Baze weren't exactly right. She figured she knew who was supposed to be who in the roles of the story. 

Cassian was the courtesan; of that she was sure from the start. Willing to give away life and limb and his soul itself to a purpose. Willing to kill himself for it, and horrible at protecting himself. Without him, she and Bodhi would be stray stars in the galaxy, without drive or direction. He gave them hope, and they gave him adoration he couldn’t quite understand but loved in turn. 

Bodhi was the mechanic, she decided. He was sweet and quick and wasn’t a blazing fire so much as a warm, constant, generous ember, ready to simmer or rage when circumstances demanded. He bent to her, but only because she took care of them. He sheltered them. He was the obvious hero, and the ensnarled soul; the duality captured everything she adored about Bodhi. 

That made her the thief. She was fine with that; she’d happily steal them both away and ignore the rest if she thought she could get away with it. She would pull Cassian away from his more driven, obsessive, punishing faults, and encourage Bodhi’s duality as much as she could. She wanted to watch them grow and learn, wanted to grow and learn with them.

Munching on, she thought about the end of the story. That was the part that still settled a lump in her throat. Speaking, putting words and coherence to the bubbling emotions under her chest. She still needed to figure that part out. 

*

Jyn and Bodhi were tangled around each other in bed, naked and handsy, when Cassian appeared above them. He dropped a small box onto Bodhi’s forehead, smiling slightly at the curious noise it earned him. 

“Happy birthday,” he said. 

Jyn curled around his back as Bodhi sat up to open the box. Inside were two gold hoops nestled in simple white silk. 

Bodhi’s head snapped up. “Don’t play with me,” he said as Jyn, peeking over his shoulder, alit with want and curiosity. Her eyes darted to the front of Cassian’s loose shirt. Was the fabric catching at his chest, or was that a trick of the light?

“Did you really?” she asked, blown away. 

Cassian backed up a few steps, putting distance between them. He hadn’t shed his outer layers, unlike the two of them. The sound of his boots echoed through the sudden silence. “I guess you’ll have to find out,” he offered, then disappeared out the door, gone like smoke into the atmosphere. 

Jyn would have run after him right then and there, decency be damned, but Bodhi stopped her long enough to pull on clothes. Nevermind most of what she pulled on was his. But by the time she wormed into her boots and Bodhi had his hair pulled back, Cassian had a healthy head start. Oh that evil man—he had planned his delivery perfectly. She’d make him pay for it. 

Tracking him took all the skills Jyn possessed; Cassian was faster then either of them and better at avoiding pursuit. Their race turned methodical, with faints and dodges around packed hallways, footraces across open tarmacs. More than once, they lost him in the twisting turns of the base, only to catch a fleeting glimpse at the edge of a crowd that sent them rushing again. 

She nearly snagged his jacket outside the mess hall. He turned at the last moment, catching her, sneaking his hands into her hair, around her waist as he kissed her, deep and devout. She was still trying to catch her breath when he disappeared again. 

Bodhi almost cornered him on the tarmac; a called greeting from an oblivious pilot across the asphalt distracted him long enough for Cassian to vanish behind a passing trolly. She nearly growled aloud in outraged denial of her hunt as she raced after his shadow.

Nearly three hours later she and Bodhi _finally_ pinned him down behind the hanger, tucked into a small enclave where no one could see them. Her blood pumped hot in her veins, and the frustration of the chase bled into glorious, thrilling triumph as she saw Bodhi wrap his fingers through Cassian’s belt and yank him sidewise. 

She ran straight for them, using her momentum to shove Cassian against the wall. Yanking his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms, she tugged his shirt out of the waist of his pants as Bodhi made quick work of his belt. Cassian laughed at their eagerness and let Bodhi kiss him as Jyn’s hand slipped under the fabric to explore. 

Her fingers touched a loop of skin-warm metal, and she tugged experimentally. Cassian bucked against her and sunk deep into Bodhi to muffle any noise he made in a deep kiss. Bodhi worked at the fastens of his shirt, revealed a deep vee of golden skin, and he pushed back the fabric to show Cassian’s nipples, threaded with a delicate gold hoop. 

Jyn flicked one, and Cassian’s whole body shook. His dark eyes shut and his breath stuttered as he jerked away from Bodhi, but he didn’t protest when she tugged on the loop again. He was hard against her stomach already, and with his arms pinned by his rucked down jacket, he looked a decedent, debauched sight indeed. Dropping a kiss onto the top of her hair, he slumped against the wall and let them explore his chest. Bodhi’s hand brush against hers as he plucked the golden decoration. She lost all her breath, heady with the knowledge of what he had given them. 

“If we don’t move now, we’re going to fuck in the middle of the hanger. Again,” Bodhi pointed out. 

“I don’t see a problem with that,” she instantly offered. 

“I would prefer not to,” Cassian threw out. She made an incredulous noise. 

“You don’t get a say in this, you ran on us!”

Cassian gave her look that was equal parts exasperated and fond. Shifting just a touch, he slide his knee between her legs, and Jyn couldn’t help the impulse to grind against him. She always made too much damn noise though, and Bodhi huff-laughed into the side of Cassian’s neck. 

“Yes,” Cassian said sardonically. “Clearly, I calculated wrong.” 

Jyn immediately promised herself that she’d pull him so far down that he wouldn’t remember how to be smug. She tugged at the collar of Bodhi’s flight suit to get his attention. “He is far to coherent right now,” she grumbled. 

“Yes,” Bodhi agreed. “We should drag him back to our room and fix that.” 

They only barely made it back their quarters. By that point they had been made to wait for too long, so Bodhi simply bent Cassian over the couch to take him. 

Jyn, not wearing much passed one of Bodhi’s flight suits anyway, took her time stripping herself as she watched. Cassian wasn’t given similar consideration—his jacket had been cast aside, but his shirt was open at the front to show off his new rings, and his pants were down around his knees. His hands scrambled against the couch cushions, but Jyn, wanting a little revenge and in a creative mood, plucked Cassian’s belt out of Bodhi’s pocket and dropped it across his back. 

“I’ve got an idea for that,” she told Bodhi. “Can you guess what it is?” 

“Well we definitely don’t want him running off again,” Bodhi replied as he reached down. He followed Cassian’s outstretched arms, collected his wrists and used his belt to lash them tighter at the base of his back. Cassian let out a guttural noise and slumped into his new constraints without a fight. 

“Ooh,” she muttered encouragement, running her fingernails over Cassian’s bowed neck before reaching up and pulling Bodhi’s hair ties out. He had been too distracted to do it himself. As Bodhi leaned down to whisper into Cassian’s ear, she slipped into their sleeping quarters for the bottle slick already waiting on the bed—she and Bodhi had been quite far along before Cassian had dropped his surprise on them. 

She slipped the bottle into Bodhi’s pocket. Then she settled in to enjoy the show. 

Prep was brief and messy, both her men too wound up to take their time. She’d talk them into a slower pace during the next round, after the aggression and aggravation of a three hour chase had a chance to be relieved. Once joined, Cassian unabashedly whined and Bodhi responded by setting his hands on Cassian’s hips, setting a punishing pace to their fucking. She curled up on the oppose side of the couch, content to simply watch for the moment. And comment. 

“You brought this on yourself,” she told Cassian, who could only pant and squirm as Bodhi used him restlessly. Bodhi’s hand traced faint patterns over his hips, his sides, and his back, but deliberately avoided his leaking cock, his decorated nipples, or sensitive neck. Cassian didn’t complain—simply writhed under Bodhi and let small sounds act has his encouragement for every thrust. 

Bodhi grinned. “How’s he look?” 

“You were right. They swing while you’re fucking him,” she reported, mesmerized by the sight of the gold hoops swaying in time with Bodhi’s thrust. Cassian was making an effort to keep his chin up, to give her a clear line of sight down his chest. In an instant, she forgave him the last three hours. 

Bodhi groaned but didn’t slow down. “Oh, I want to see.” 

“I’ll make him stay bent over when I get him next,” she promised. “They’re your birthday present after all, you should be able to watch them all you want.” 

Cassian glared at her through his eyelashes, a vague warning that they were talking too much without remembering the counter payoff of their agreement. Jyn quickly leaned across the couch to kiss him, slow and overwhelming. A reward and a thank you. He hissed into her mouth as Bodhi’s thrusts became erratic. 

Bodhi dropped his face into the dip of Cassian’s shoulder blades, groaning as he came. Jyn gently racked her fingers through his hair, teasing the long strands over her knuckles. “Happy birthday,” she whispered to him, surprised affection coloring her words. “Having a good time so far?” 

“The best,” Bodhi confirmed, breathless. Between the surprise and the chase and the sex, he was flushed and fuzzy, excited and sated. “Splendid. You all are spoiling me—would do it all again in a heartbeat.” he nipped a quick bite into Cassian’s neck. 

Jyn grinned, feeling wicked. Cassian was still on edge, gloriously keyed up with no ready outlet. He whined and wriggled under them as they spoke. 

“Want something?” she asked. Cassian groaned and popped his shoulders, yanking at the belt binding his hands together. The golden skin around his wrists had turned a rough red as he flexed his forearms. She and Bodhi watched, fascinated, as he worked his fingers into the slack of the belt, loosening and slipping until he was free. That gave her a whole host of new ideas to toy with...Straightening, he pulled Bodhi close. 

“Happy birthday,” he whispered, gentle this time when he was teasing three hours ago. Bodhi melted against him, eyes closed, sighing little whines when Cassian let him gasp between kisses. Jyn felt her chest expand with warm, fuzzy heat at the sight of them entangled together. They had made an art out of the give and take. 

Cassian guided Bodhi down onto the couch, and with a final kiss turned to her. The heat in his eyes brought ideas upon her. Nothing fancy, nothing complicated. After a three hour chase and rough fuck, maybe something traditional was in order. As Bodhi laid down along the cushions and watched with half-lidded eyes, she dragged Cassian onto the floor. Slick wasn’t needed when she was this wet. One, two, three, and he was inside her. As simple as the act was, Jyn saw galaxies explode behind her eyes as she was split open. 

The feeling of one of her men inside her was better than flying, better than brawling, better than any hedonistic, self-serving act she had ever committed in her life. Before them, she resisted any sort of penetrative sex, too mindful of the fearful weakness of exposing her self in such a way. But her men, oh her men. She was sure she’d offer them the galaxy itself if it got them to look at her like they did now, like she was brilliant and combatant and dazzling in her determination. Cradling Cassian between her thighs, she arched her spine as he fit into her, filled her to the brim and over. Her fingernails racked down his sides, clawing, marking, screaming as she took him. The carpet bit into her skin, causing deep rashes down her back.

Bodhi was speaking, if she listened close enough she could hear him. “That’s it, that’s perfect, stars above you two are divine together. How does it feel, the give and take? Absolutely stunning, you both move together like you’re reading each other’s minds—ohh, what did I do in a past life to deserve you both?” 

Moaning, she cast her hand out above her head, and wrapped her fingers around Bodhi’s wrist. She wanted him to know, _it was important for him to know_ , that he deserved every scrap of affection he won from a war-scarred nobody and a broken assassin. He brought so much out in her, in them both, and he needed to know that. She couldn’t let him think he wasn’t good enough. 

“More than good,” she gasped. “More than good, so endlessly, devotedly good, _oooohhhhhh_!” 

Cassian’s hand overlapped hers on Bodhi’s wrist. “Nothing— _ohstars_ —nothing from a past life. All you, Bodhi, all— _ah!_ all you,” he whispered. “All you both, so,” he hissed under his breath, his grip spasming. Jyn squeezed her thighs around his waist in encouragement. 

"Keep going, keep going," she whispered. Cassian stuttered against her, his dark eyes wide and terrified and full of veneration. She kissed his forehead so he would know she wouldn’t let him fall. 

“Don’t even know— _ggggnnahhh_ whaaaat, what I’d do without you both. Brilliant, amazing, don’t ever think you don’t deserve,” suddenly the moment, and the panic built into it, became too much for him, freezing his words. She surged up, capturing his lips in a kiss, relieving him of the overpowering responsibility of speech. 

Bodhi had no compulsion. As she and Cassian moved, he spoke, a constant stream of excited observations and emotions, detailing how beautiful they looked, how much he loved watching them, how lucky he was. Jyn rode his words higher and higher as Cassian’s fingers found her clit. The rest of the room, the base, the planet, the galaxy, dropped away, leaving only her and her men, their hands tangled together over her head. 

When at last Bodhi had no words left, when Cassian could no longer so much as twitch when teased, and when her limbs demanded she rest, they collapsed upon the floor. The scratchy carpet irritated her sensitive skin, stopping her from drifting off in a pleasant wave of exhaustion. It was difficult to get comfortable. She shifted, and realized what it was that sat heavy on her. 

She wanted to be able to put words to what was happening inside her. Chirrut’s story bounced though her memory—she suddenly realized it was the point in the s tory, were he thought they needed to pull part. 

“I love you both,” she blurted out, the words flying from her mouth without conscious input from her brain, driven only by the determination not to let them slip away and out the door. 

Bodhi jumped. Cassian stared, wide-eyed. Jyn stared straight ahead and said nothing else. 

“Are…are we the kind of couple that says that kind of thing?” Bodhi finally voiced. 

“We’re not a couple. A couple is two,” Jyn reiterated. She felt strongly on that topic, as pedantic as it was. 

Cassian opened his mouth. Closed it. 

“Well, yeah, but—,” Bodhi mumbled before trailing off into uncertain silence.

“You don’t have to say anything. In fact, I don’t think I want either of you to say anything. I just wanted it out there,” Jyn explained to the ceiling. She couldn’t face looking at them right now; they were in uncharted territory and none of them knew what to do next. She combatted the irrational fear that threatened her. She had startled them, sprung this on them, of course they were going to struggle with the weight she just hung around their necks. 

Then Cassian moved. Slowly, stiffly, he reached for her. Once she was tucked into his side, he prodded and tugged until Bodhi laid down on her free side, encasing her with their warmth. Tentatively, as if he were afraid to wake from a lovely dream, Bodhi did as he was silently bid. 

“Say it again?” he asked. 

She swallowed. “I love you. Both of you.” she whispered. It was easier the second time. 

Bodhi smiled, beautiful and open. His hair was down around his face, softening his sharp cheekbones, and he had no walls up to hide his excitement. He didn’t say anything, and for that Jyn was grateful. There was only so much emotion she could handle right now. He simply kissed her, light and dreamy, full of wonder. He smelled like sex and sweat and adoration and she couldn’t get enough of him. 

Cassian, tucked in behind her, was harder to puzzle through. He hadn’t spoken since her declaration, hadn’t let any expression filter through, choosing instead to hide his face in the crook of her neck. His stubble prickled against her shoulder. His arm was thrown over her waist, far enough to lay his palm on Bodhi’s ribcage. She reached out and grounded him, her hand over his, reminding him that he wasn’t allowed to run away from this. Yes, it was terrifying, but they needed to face it together. It was all she did though; he’d find his words in his own time. This wasn’t something she wanted to pull from him. 

“One more time?” Bodhi prompted.

“You’re pushing your luck.” 

“I know. One more time anyway?” 

“I love you.” 

Behind her, Cassian shook. His face hadn’t come up from hiding in the curve of her neck, but she could feel a hot wetness against her skin. She craned her head back enough to press a kiss to the first available patch of his skin, somewhere around the round of his shoulder. 

Taking her action as permission, Bodhi peppered both of them with kisses, bright, sweet little nudges laced with the faintest edge of teeth. By the time he finished, small red bruises littered her shoulders, Cassian’s neck, the crock of her elbow, the slope of his hip. Bodhi’s own response to her confession pressed into them with as much determination as he could manage. She loved each throbbing little bruise. One day she may even tell him so. 

Cassian’s head finally came up; he watched them both with sniper eyes. Steady, waiting, taking in every nuance of breath and every twitch of muscle along their faces. Whatever he saw made him relax enough settle down, his breath on Jyn’s neck and his shoulders loosening from the shot of tension she had given him. He wasn’t running. Jyn squeezed his hand in reassuring praise as Bodhi shone brighter than a sun. 

As they drifted off on the floor, only meters away from their much more suitable bed and with no inclination to move, Jyn was content. They weren’t her parents, or Baze and Chirrut, Saw and his obsession, or any other relationship around base or beyond. They were what they were, she and her men. 

That was alright. It was all she needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii.....so it's done! Yay! Only a year and a half late! 
> 
> Sorry about that. 
> 
> Many thanks to the Alabama Shakes and Hozier, who got me back on track with this.
> 
> again, un'betaed. apologies for any typos

**Author's Note:**

> I regret nothing.


End file.
